


Let It All Go

by emma91011



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Stydia, Teen Wolf, and really sad shit, im so emo over this trailer, im so sorry, its all just angst, please excuse how shitty this is, this is shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 23:32:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7594657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma91011/pseuds/emma91011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles was shaking, not from the car, but from pure fear. He had been marked earlier that day and he knew what was approaching. He knew he was past the point of being saved. His only hope was that someone, anyone, would remember him. Scratch that. His only hope was that the girl of his dreams sitting right in front of him remembered. </p><p>OR</p><p>AU Where Lydia doesn't remember Stiles and feels a gaping hole in her heart that he used to fill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let It All Go

**Author's Note:**

> The trailer has fucked me up so much so I wrote this to cope. Enjoy!

They were coming. Anyone within a ten mile radius could hear them coming. At least that's what it sounded like to Lydia. The horse's hooves reverberated through the old jeep, pounding on the steel frame, causing the car to shake.

 

Stiles was shaking, not from the car, but from pure fear. He had been marked earlier that day and he knew what was approaching. He knew he was past the point of being saved. His only hope was that someone, anyone, would remember him. Scratch that. His only hope was that the girl of his dreams sitting right in front of him remembered.

 

Tears welled in his eyes. Gulping, he looked up and croaked, "I'm afraid Lyds. I'm not ready to go."

 

Lydia reached out and grabbed his face in her hands. She had her lips pursed and was shaking her head. "Stiles, you'll be fine. We'll figure this out. Or, you will, seeing as you are the one who always figures it out, remember?" she said with a laugh, one that was hollow and sad. He couldn't help but share a smile with her, thinking about the time he saved her from getting her foot chopped off in a bear trap.

 

But, even that wasn't enough to make him feel even the slightest bit better. Stiles could hear them getting closer, he could feel himself slipping away. Quietly, he begged, "Don't forget me."

 

She took his hand in hers, caressing it with her thumb, tears streaking her face. "I won't!" she cried out desperately. "I won't," she whispered, more to herself than to Stiles.

 

Shaking her head, Lydia pushed her lips under the skin, thinking of what to say. She tried to get the words out, failing. "Stiles… I could never. No, I would never. I can't forget you, god, I really cannot forget you no matter how hard I try and oh god that sounded wrong," She cursed, moving her head down to hide from his face. When she looked back up she looked him in the eyes and smiled at Stiles so lovingly it nearly tore his heart in two.

 

"What I'm trying to say is…oh screw it," she exclaimed, grabbing Stiles' face and pulling it towards her for the second time in his life. And once again, Lydia let all her emotion into a kiss. Stiles sat frozen, before deepening it, half out of desperation, and half out of love. He didn't want this to be the way Lydia and him shared their first, real kiss. He didn't want this to be the last time he felt her embrace or her lips pressed against his so delicately. He didn't want to lose her. Not yet. Not so soon.

 

The hoof beats had grown louder, as Lydia pulled away. Choking back a sob, she lifted her hand to his face and stroked it. "I love you," she said simply.

 

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he told her the same. He couldn't hear her reply, even if there was one at all, for the sounds of the hunt had entered their sanctuary. As he started to disappear, he leaned down and whispered, "Remember. Remember. Remember," until there was no one left to whisper to.

 

\----------

 

Lydia drove the jeep home in silence. She knew Stiles would want her to take care of it while he was gone. When she got home, she wasn't surprised to find no one waiting for her. In this situation, she was rather thankful.

 

As she walked upstairs, she pulled her phone out and dialed Scott. Waiting for him to pick up, she fell back onto her bed and let the tears fall silently down her already black stained cheeks. After a few rings, he finally answered, "Hey Lyds, what's up?"

 

"He's gone," she sobbed. Silence. "Scott… Stiles is gone. Did you hear me?"

 

Shuffling was heard on the other line, followed by more silence. And then, "Oh. Yeah. We'll get him back Lyds. I promise. I'm with Deaton now, so we'll start working on a plan." Relief filled her body. They would find Stiles and fix this mess. Who else would? Stiles would need help if he was going to get back to her.

 

But, a nagging voice in her brain told her they wouldn't. They couldn't. Not if they couldn't remember him. Slowly, she asked, "Scott, did you start to forget Stiles there a second ago?"

 

Silence. Then, a sigh. "Lyds, we have to go now. I'll talk to you tomorrow." The receiver clicked leaving her in a drowning silence. Lydia threw her phone and screamed. Not a banshee scream, but one of sorrow and love and frustration. This was Stiles. He was truly unforgettable. Yet, somehow, he was beginning to become hazy. And Lydia could not let that happen. Grabbing a piece of paper, she wrote his name down and pinned it above her mirror. Just in case.

 

She didn't sleep much that night.

 

\----------

 

She went to pick up Malia the next morning, as she and Stiles always did. Or did they? Was it just her? How did he get to school? As the questions entered her mind, Lydia felt her throat closing up. She couldn't breathe. She wished Stiles was here to kiss her so she could stop breathing and feel her heart soar out of her chest. She wished he was here so this wouldn't be happening at all.

 

By the time Malia got into the car, Lydia was already a mess. Her makeup had been cried off, not that it would've helped her sleepless face much anyways. She was sobbing hysterically. "Malia," she said in between sniffles, "You remember Stiles, right?"

 

Widening her eyes, Malia leaned in. "Lydia, what do you mean?"

 

Lydia let out a loud sob, resting her forehead on the steering wheel. She was having a heard time believing this. How could they let him slip away so easily, like he never existed. He was so important to them all, how could they let Stiles go so easily? It didn't make sense to Lydia. Shaking her head, she turned to Malia and told her, "They got him. The ghost riders. Last night."

 

Malia blinked, confused. Lydia's heart fell to the floor. Grabbing her shoulder, Malia reassured her the best she could, "Lydia, I don't know if this is a predicition or what, but we'll find this Stiles kid, I know we will. Let me drive to school and we'll find Scott. He'll know what to do."

 

Going through the motions, Lydia got out of the car and slunk into the front seat. She sat, almost catatonic on the ride to school, staring out of the window at the passing landscape. Her heart felt empty. Maybe this was a joke. Last night already felt like a dream. Maybe it was a weird prank they were pulling on her, and Stiles would be waiting at her locker, goofy grin and all. He would stumble to greet her, mumbling about some dumb article he read or what he ate for breakfast. She would smile at him and laugh as he fell, trying to carry her books. It would all be normal.

 

But when they showed up to school, with Scott doing homework looking like he had no cares in the world, Lydia knew. She knew they had forgotten. And when she opened her locker, the photo of the four of them that usually hung, only contained three smiling faces.

 

She ran to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet, her half eaten breakfast flowing out of her along with her sobs.

 

\----------

 

That night, Lydia went to the last place she wanted to go. If this failed, if he didn't remember, she wouldn't be able to handle it. Taking a deep breath, Lydia rang the doorbell. After some shuffling inside, the door opened to a familiar face. Scrunching his eyebrows, Sheriff Stilinski looked confused. "Lydia Martin? What are you doing here?"

 

Lydia felt her throat close up, she thought she was going to choke on the sobs coming up, killing her before her heart could. Tears falling down her face, she tried to explain through her hysterical voice, "I don't know if you remember, but you have a son. His name is, well, I- I don't know how to say it but you call him Stiles. He's been erased and no one can remember except for me, and I'm hoping you do as well. I just - Can I go to his room?" Looking back up into his eyes, Lydia felt her heart racing out of her chest.

 

Slowly, Sheriff Stilinski opened the door for her to enter. "Um, there's a bedroom upstairs that I don't use but there is some crap in there if you'd like to take a look?" he offered. She nodded, wiping her tears, and walking in.

 

The Stilinski home felt colder, emptier, without Stiles. Lydia noticed that most of the decor had disappeared, and that there was pizza boxes and take out everywhere. Without Stiles, Sheriff was probably struggling, of course he wouldn't know that though. Lydia made her way to the stairs, heading up and going to the second door on the right.

 

She could feel Sheriff Stilinski's eyes on her, and she had a feeling he was very confused. He didn't know this had been Stiles' room and that she had spent many nights here. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. Lydia squeezed her eyes shut as she closed the door, and sank to the ground. She let out a heaving sob. The rooms as empty.

 

There was a bed, but it didn't have Stiles' comforter. The floor was lacking it's usual array of flannels and notes. There was no red string all over or no glass board. There was no trace of Stiles. She had to face the truth, he was gone. Standing up shakily, she touched the desk, the bed, the walls, memories flooding her so clear it was as if she was living in them.

 

He was everywhere. She could smell his detergent, a fresh meadow scent. She could hear his laughter ringing through the hall, coming to the door, into the room. She could feel his hand on her shoulder, pulling her into his embrace. Lydia shut her eyes and turned away. Her eyes fell on something in the closet. Sliding the door open further, Lydia pulled a framed photo of a tree. Studying it further, she realized it was hers. Her heart stopped. Flipping it around, she discovered a note, the one that had been tapped to it a year ago when she had noticed the frame the first time. Back then, she hadn't really cared about it, but now, it was all she had. Ripping it off, she ran her hands over the letters,  _F O R   L Y D I A._

Unfolding the dated letter, she took a deep breath and began.

 

 _Lydia, I know you think of me as this weird kid whose obsessed with you, and you're not wrong._ This earned a small laugh from her. 

_But, I hope I've become more than that to you. You've become more than just a beautiful girl to me. I know you're wicked smart, and sarcastic. You have a huge heart of gold that you don't let anyone see. But, I see Lydia. I see you caring for Scott and for Allison. I see you acting as a parent to your own mom. I see you helping kids out with homework. I see it all. I know how kind you are, and it's just one of the things I love about you. Yes, love. I love you Lydia. I love everything about you. I love your smile, your laugh, even your scream. I love how you always have an answer or how you're a step ahead of us all. I love how you think I don't notice you staring at me, or how your hand will go for mine when you're afraid. I love how after we kissed, even if you say it was just to calm me down, you looked as if your whole world had been flipped upside down, which it probably was. I know you probably weren't expecting to fall in love with me. I mean, I'm Stiles. And I hope by the time you read this, you've accepted your feelings. If not, I'll wait. If you never do, that's ok. I just hope you're happy. All I really want is to see you happy. So, that's all. I love you._

 

_Stiles_

 

Clutching the note to her heart, she fell down against the wall. Sobbing, she let out a small scream. She didn't care if Sheriff Stilinski heard. She didn't care anymore. She only cared about Stiles.

 

\----------

 

He leaned his head against the wall. Everyone here had a dead look on their face. They were waiting. Waiting to be remembered. Waiting for some clue. Waiting and waiting and waiting for anything. Stiles couldn't wait anymore.

 

He thought about Lydia. He thought about her lips and her hair and her laugh. He hoped she was laughing. He knew she had probably forgotten by now. He hoped she was happy.

  
Peter walked up to him, he told him that if they walked through this tunnel, they could maybe find a way out. It may not even be alive. But, it was better than this. Stiles told him not today. He was still waiting, even if he didn't care to admit it.

 

\----------

 

Lydia tried. She tried so hard. No one remembered. Night after night, she felt him fade a little more. She felt his impact fade. She didn't speak to Scott McCall much anymore. They were friendly, but they didn't know why. She was a little closer with Malia, they shopped and did homework and laughed at boys. Some nights Lydia would scream so loud, her ears would bleed. Once Malia heard it, and for some reason, said she remembered hearing Lydia scream like that before. Lydia cried as Malia held her.

 

Spring came around faster than Lydia would've liked. The weather got warmer, the flowers bloomed, and her heart felt heavier. She decided on Princeton. It was far from this place, this cold and strange place that made her cry herself to sleep every night. Malia had decided on UCLA and Scott was to join her. They weren't close, but they were friends. The three of them spent Saturdays buying dorm stuff and making plans to visit Lydia in New Jersey. 

 

May rolled around and prom arrived. Scott and Malia went together, they danced and kissed and Lydia stayed home. She didn't feel right going… not without… what was his name? Yes, Stiles. Whoever he was. She saw his name scribbled on a piece of paper above her mirror. The night of graduation, she ripped it down.

 

As she gave the valedictorian speech, she went on and on about love and family and friends, about holding the ones you love close. Was that supposed to be Stiles? Was he here? Did he go to her school? Were they once friends? When Lydia cried giving the speech, no one thought it was about some stranger named Stiles. They all just thought she was emotional like every graduating senior. When she got a picture with her friends, she felt a nagging feeling as if someone should be by her side. She went home and cried.

 

Summer came to end faster than she would've liked. Lydia had spent most of it working at engineering company. Nights were reserved for Malia and Scott. But soon, they started hanging out alone and she was left staring at the ceiling hoping the hole in her heart would go away before college. She couldn't take this anymore.

 

When August faded into September, Lydia helped back Malia's boxes into the truck along with Scott's, she cried. She cried because her only two friends were leaving. They were her little bit of sanity. Until she left for Princeton next week, she feared she'd lose it. "Hey," Malia said with a smile, "We'll be out in November over break for Thanksgiving. Then you can let us cry when we're too confused to understand your work."

 

Lydia laughed and pulled her friend into a hug. "I'll miss you guys," she whispered. "Don't forget me."

 

"I won't," Malia replied. Lydia felt a sense of deja vu. Shaking it off, she hugged Scott and joked with him about visiting and not partying too much. 

 

As the two drove off, Malia turned and put her torso out of the window, waving wildly. "WE LOVE YOU! SEE YOU SOON LYDS!" she screamed, getting a few glances from the neighbors. Lydia laughed, shaking her head as she got into her old, blue jeep. It failed to start a few times. By the time she got it running, Lydia felt a certain anxious thought creeping up onto her. She was forgetting something.

 

Crying, she rummaged through the glove compartment, looking for a photo. She found it under a stack of CDs named  _F O R  L Y D I A._ The photo contained her friends and her, sitting outside the school. Squinting, she looked harder. There should be someone in between her and Scott. "Stiles," she whispered. Nothing came to her mind. She put the photo back and drove home. When she flew out to Princeton the following week, the photo was laying in her passenger seat at home, forgotten.

 

\----------

 

 

"Stiles, we have to go. Waiting is useless. They  _forgot_ us. They're not coming," Peter cried out. Shaking his head, Stiles wanted to argue with him. But he couldn't. It may have been years for all he knew. But, they hadn't come. Lydia hadn't come.

 

Sighing, he looked at Peter. "You're right," he admitted. "Let's go." 

 

Smiling, Peter patted him on the back. "Finally, kid. Let's go get out of here and figure this mess out ourselves." They began walking to the tunnel at the end of the fluorescent lit waiting room. Blank faces stared at them. A few got up and began to follow them, they had no other direction. As they approached the tunnel, they all began to tear at the gate blocking the entrance. It fell with a shattering clank.

 

"Wait," Stiles said. He walked slowly back towards the room, despite Peter's protests. He shushed him and stood.

 

"Stiles," a voice whispered in the air. He felt his breath catch. It was Lydia. He waited for more, with nothing to come. Maybe he was losing it. He had to get out of here. "Nevermind," he said, looking back one last time before walking into the darkness with one thing in mind.


End file.
